


Moonlit

by kiyala



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-01
Updated: 2009-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vampire comes across an undead abomination that is the result of a failed experiment at resurrection. The two make friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlit

**Author's Note:**

> Halloween fic, based on the [lovely colour spread for Chapter 379](http://www.onemanga.com/Bleach/379/02-03/) :D

  
He'd found the creature one night, when he'd wandered farther from home than was usual. It – or _he_ , as it appeared – was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree trunk, a blank look in the eerily yellow eyes, but its brow creased in a frown.

Ishida approached the creature carefully. It seemed not to move, and as he got closer, he could see that its skin was in fact sewn together from several patches of differently-coloured skin. The stitches were sloppy, coming undone in some places, and an unsightly black against the mostly pale skin. Aside from this, the bolts attached to the body, and the strange patch of metal that covered the left side of his chest, over his heart, made Ishida doubt that this creature was alive.

He was proven wrong when the yellow eyes moved to look at him and the brow creased even further. An unmistakably masculine voice spoke, "The Hell are you looking at?"

Ishida took a step back and adjusted his glasses as he fought the surprised expression off his face. "Ah. So you are a living… being of some sort."

"Yeah. An experiment or something. See that little house on that hill? Came from there."

"The one beside the graveyard?" Ishida asked, peering in the indicated direction.

"Some creepy scientist guy lived there. His friend's kid died, or something like that. He tried to bring the kid back, but he ended up making me instead."

"Ah." Ishida took the opportunity to take a closer look at the creature once again. "Not the intended result?"

"Big mistake." The creature sighed, which came out as a hollow rattling sound. "That house is on the edge of a village. Church wasn't happy with the scientist. They killed him."

Ishida frowned, a surge of irritation rising within him the way it always did when he was reminded that most of those in the world around him refused to understand things beyond what they already knew. It was something he had personally suffered from on several occasions. He took a breath to calm himself and asked, "I would have thought they would destroy you as well."

"That's why I'm here, not there," was the reply. "I don't know what I am, or if I'm really alive the way I was supposed to be. But I want to keep existing."

Nodding in understanding, Ishida looked in the direction of the house again as he thought.

"I live some distance from here. Hardly anyone approaches my manor. You can stay there provided you do not become a nuisance. Surely you have realised that I am hardly human myself."

"I was wondering."

"Cutting a long story short, I am a vampire," Ishida said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing just slightly. "I will tell you the long story sometime but first, we should return to my manor. Something tells me those stitches of yours will fall apart very soon. I doubt that will be pleasant."

The creature grinned slowly. "If you say so. Anywhere's better than here."

They kept close to the woods as they walked to the manor. It was a small, but proud-looking structure of finely carved stone. The entrance was made of large double doors made of polished mahogany. Ishida pushed one open and gestured for his guest to enter first.

The interior was lit by several candles, placed in ornate candelabras resting on whatever surface was available. Ishida walked deeper into the house, gesturing for his guest to follow. The room he entered had a sterile feel to it and unlike the deep reds and bright oranges that the candles threw over the rest of the rooms, this was a dull mix of slate grey and pale blue. A single candle provided the only light.

"Take a seat," Ishida murmured, indicating the only chair in the room. It was a folding metal chair, hardly comfortable, but his direction was not met with any objection.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, opening a drawer to retrieve his sewing kit.

The creature shook its head. "The dead kid I was supposed to replace was called Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Kurosaki, then. You may call me Ishida, if you wish."

Kurosaki nodded.

"Do you feel pain, Kurosaki?" Ishida asked as he threaded a needle.

"I think so. My back hurts a little, from when I sat down under that tree. I leaned back too quickly."

"Amazing," Ishida whispered, and he truly sounded impressed. "To have done such a thorough job of reawakening your consciousness."

"It's not my consciousness. It's that kid's."

"Perhaps it is one and the same. Of course, it can never be more than speculation, but consciousness must come from somewhere." Ishida hummed in thought and shrugged it off. "This may hurt."

Kurosaki hissed as Ishida picked at his loose stitches. Seeking for a distraction, he started talking. "Y-You know what you're doing, right?"

"I was a doctor once," Ishida replied, not slowing down in his actions. "It is the long version of my story, in fact. The town I lived in as a human suffered from what I now realise were vampire attacks. People who had been healthy during the night would suddenly appear pale the following morning, having lost most of their blood. I studied the dead bodies to find some sort of cause. When I began to realise that the punctures in their necks were due to a vampire, I received a dead body I did not recognise. I shrugged it off, deciding it must have been a relative of one of the locals. As I began to study it, it came to life."

"The vampire?" Kurosaki guessed, too distracted by the story to notice that Ishida had started stitching his skin together again. "So he attacked you?"

"Yes. I was bitten and rather than draining me, he turned me. I have no idea of why, and I did not think of asking when I tracked him down and killed him."

"Damn. Good on you for getting revenge, though."

Ishida smiled slightly. "I thought so myself."

Kurosaki's stitches were quickly redone and Ishida ran his fingers over the skin with a thoughtful expression. "Strange. Patched-together as you look, you definitely feel like a living person."

"Good to hear," Kurosaki said quietly. "You're not going to drink my blood, are you?"

Ishida's lips twisted into a smirk. "If I had wanted to, I would have done it before wasting my thread and effort on sewing you back together."

"That's a relief."

"Do you need to feed?" Ishida asked, putting his sewing kit away. "I have already fed for tonight but if you require anything, we can look for it."

"I'm fine. Thanks. Could probably do with sleep, though. The sun's going to rise soon anyway, right?"

"Mm true," Ishida nodded. He led the way out of the room and up a flight of stairs. "There is a furnished room beside mine that you can use. I shall wake you at sunset."

"Why are you doing all of this for me?" Kurosaki asked with a small frown.

Ishida shrugged casually. "We are both facing similar circumstances. Neither of us are particularly welcome among people. After years of living alone, perhaps some company might be welcome."

"Thank you. I'll stay as long as you'll have me."

"That makes me glad. Rest well, Kurosaki."

*

  
They became used to each other's company over the passing week. Kurosaki seemed to need little maintenance in the way of nourishment, but he was glad to find people for Ishida to feed on. He considered it a way of repaying the vampire for his hospitality and Ishida did not seem to mind. They kept each other company late into the night, until the first rays of dawn began to creep across the sky. Most of the time, they clicked easily, as though they had everything in common, but occasionally they would come across a topic that would lead to bitter arguments, both of them too stubborn to back down until they were forced to drop it for the sake of conversation and civility.

Kurosaki found it bitterly ironic that the two of them, monsters by everybody else's standards, had the most human interaction among all that he had observed since his creation. Ishida was, without doubt, a friend. The only pleasant company he had ever experienced, and as far as he was concerned, the only company he needed.

One evening, Ishida had decided that they would sit in the manor's library, among his collection of books. Kurosaki's eyes had lit up when he saw shelves upon shelves of reading material and barely hesitated before asking if he could look through them. Ishida was only too happy to let him do so.

Unlike the vampire, he didn't need to sleep during the day to avoid the light of the sun. As his own strange form of life he could appreciate, but did not truly need, the several hours of rest he had each day. He asked for permission to read into the day and Ishida allowed it without hesitation.

This was a mistake.

It was late afternoon and Kurosaki was growing bored as he waited for sunset. As much as he enjoyed reading, the vampire's company was incomparable. There was something Kurosaki felt; an attachment of sorts that made him spend every moment they weren't together, anticipating when they would be again. He decided against letting Ishida know about this, wondering if it would make their friendship awkward. The very prospect was enough to make him decide that it needed to be kept to himself.

His gaze fell on the desk in the middle of the library. It had several sheets of paper, some with writing and some without. There was a framed photograph of what Kurosaki recognised to be Ishida when he was human, wearing the uniform of a doctor. Beside it was a stack of moleskin journals with papers sticking out of them. Curious, Kurosaki picked one up and flipped through it. He could see the small, slanted writing that he knew belonged to Ishida. A piece of paper fell out of the book and Kurosaki panicked, not wanting to lose its place in case it was important. He picked the paper up and his eyes widened.

It was not a simple sheet of paper, but an old photograph. One of the two people in the picture was a younger version of Ishida as a human. The other, Kurosaki realised as his eyes widened, was himself. But unlike him, this version had even skin, no stitches, no bolts. This, he realised as his grip on the photograph tightened, was the original Kurosaki Ichigo he was meant to be a copy of.

He picked up the journal once again to place the photograph back in, but when his eyes caught the words on the page, he couldn't keep himself from reading.

It was a journal entry, dated twelve years ago, and written in what Kurosaki recognised as Ishida's hand, but it was shaky.

 _Today is the day he died.  
This date will be forever imprinted on my memory. His face, the look in his eyes as he realised his fate. The final smile of farewell.  
I am lost.  
\- U._

"Still up?" a voice from the doorway caused Kurosaki to jump.

Ishida tilted his head, curious at Kurosaki's reaction. He moved closer, coming to a dead halt when he realised what Kurosaki was holding. His eyes narrowed, "You…"

"Is this why you let me stay here?" Kurosaki asked, his frown deepening, "Because I… I'm a _copy_ of someone you knew?"

"No," Ishida replied, sounding defensive. "I would have done the same even if you looked nothing like Ichigo—"

" _Ichigo_ ," he repeated, "That familiar, huh? I should have guessed, from what you've got written in this book."

"He died years ago," Ishida said, and though he didn't raise his voice, he sounded furious. "I accepted that fact when it happened, Kurosaki, so there is no need to dredge up old memories."

"Old memories?" Kurosaki asked disbelievingly. "Ishida, this is who I am! Who I was _meant_ to be! If I didn't end up being such a mistake, I would have ended up being the same person you lost back then."

"But you are not the same person," the vampire said, looking away. "I knew that from the moment I saw you. Sometimes, you act the way he did. If not for the stitches and bolts, perhaps you would look exactly the same as he did. But not once have I ever thought you were anyone but yourself. I have never treated you like a substitute for Ichigo."

"Of course," Kurosaki muttered. "From what I can tell, we'd need to be a great deal cosier for me to be a substitute."

Ishida's eyes widened only a fraction, but Kurosaki had spent enough time with him to register the pain in the blue eyes.

Turning away, Ishida balled his hands into fists. "I am going out to feed before I do something I may regret later."

"See you later," Kurosaki replied, a little hollowly, wondering why it had felt like Ishida had hurt him when it was actually the reverse. He heard the main door click shut, telling him that Ishida had left. Sighing, he sat down in front of the table and reached for the journals, to find out what he could about his companion.

Ishida didn't return for two hours. In that time, Kurosaki sifted through the medical research in the journals to find the entries that were more personal, piecing together what he could. He realised, with a sick twisting feeling of guilt in his stomach, that his initial guesses regarding Ishida's relationship with the original Kurosaki Ichigo were off. But only slightly. He had thought they had been lovers, from the pain evident in the journal entry that had mentioned the original Ichigo's death. He saw the look in Ishida's eyes as he spoke of _Ichigo_ , a separate person from Kurosaki, and the memories that threatened to surface.

From the entries he read preceding the death, Kurosaki came to realise that no, they hadn't been lovers, but they had been well on their way to becoming such. Kurosaki frowned, realising that he hadn't been reminding Ishida of love lost, but of something he had never had the chance to experience. Flipping through the books, he found entries became sparse after the death and almost entirely mentioning research. The only two other entries he found of a personal nature were to mark the date he had been turned into a vampire, and the date he had killed his sire.

He stood as he heard the door open again, telling him that Ishida had returned. Replacing the journals where he had found them, Kurosaki picked up another book from one of the shelves against the wall and sat in a single-seater nearby, pretending to read.

"Still reading?" Ishida asked as he entered the library. The vampire's lips had a slight flush to them, which was a sign of a good feed, but he looked unhappy.

"You have a lot of books," Kurosaki replied noncommittally. He looked up from the book in his hands and sighed. "I'm sorry. For lots of things, like being just off the person I was supposed to be, for causing you so much trouble, but mostly just for being an idiot."

A faint smile touched Ishida's lips and it was enough to make Kurosaki feel a lot better. "You are forgiven. But I will not listen to you apologising for the first. It was out of your control. No matter what that scientist had intended when he created you, you are yourself. You are the closest friend I have had for more than a decade and I appreciate that more than you can know."

Kurosaki put his book down and slowly stood, walking closer to Ishida. "You still miss him, don't you?"

"Of course I do," there was an edge of bitterness in Ishida's voice, but it quickly disappeared. "As much as I hated it back then, I accepted the truth. He is dead and gone, and nothing changes that."

"If I'm just a bad memory, I'll go."

"No," Ishida replied immediately. "No. Please. You are more than that. Believe me."

Kurosaki carefully wrapped his arm around Ishida and held him close.

"Thank you," Ishida murmured, turning his face into Kurosaki's chest.

"Tell me more about him."

"He was a childhood friend. My father was the doctor, his was the apothecary. They were friends, so we were friends. He was charismatic – the kind of person who turned heads no matter where he went or what he did. People admired him, and I was one of them, for longer than any other. By some incredible stroke of luck, he was drawn to me as I was to him. We kept it a secret from others, slowly working up the courage to confront what it really was that we felt for each other. But then…"

"He died," Kurosaki finished softly, resting his chin on Ishida's head.

The vampire's shoulders sagged. "He was the first victim of the vampire attacks."

Kurosaki held Ishida at arm's length. "The same vampire that—"

"The one who turned me," Ishida replied with a nod. His tone turned icy. "The one I killed. At that time, the attacks were few and far in-between. He must have gotten hungrier, or more confident, but he did not attack anyone else for years. In that time, my father had succumbed to old age. I was the town doctor and a year following my father's death, the vampire attacked the town again."

"How terrible." Kurosaki hugged him close again.

Ishida closed his eyes, content to stay in Kurosaki's arms for a long moment before remembering himself. He straightened up and took a step back.

Clearing his throat, he looked at Kurosaki and then looked away. "I think that I should take another look at your stitching. Just in case."

The examination room did not feel as cold this time. Perhaps it was because he knew Ishida better now, but Kurosaki did not feel any discomfort at the stark contrast the muted colours were to the rest of the manor this time. They chatted idly to distract Kurosaki as Ishida pulled at his stitches and redid them.

The rest of the night proceeded as normal and when Ishida retired to his bedroom at dawn, Kurosaki went into his own room, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling as he thought.

What Ishida had told him of the original Ichigo corresponded to what he had surmised from the journal entries. The thought of Ishida being alone for such a long time made Kurosaki want to hold him close again and he paused to wonder about that. He didn't have Ichigo's memories from when he had been alive, so he immediately dismissed the idea of his attachment to Ishida simply being an echo of what had happened years ago. He wondered if Ishida would think of it this way. He rolled onto his side and shut his eyes, waiting to fall asleep. As it crept up on him, a thought occurred to him; even if Ishida appeared to return his affections, how would he be sure that it was Kurosaki the feelings were for, and not the memory of Ichigo?

*

  
Another week passed. Kurosaki made no further mention of his original self, as he began to think of it, or the way he felt about Ishida. He noticed that Ishida seemed more relaxed around him now, less hesitant about contact and almost affectionate, if Kurosaki let himself be an optimist.

They would lean against each other as they read in the library, never more than an arm's reach away.

"You know what?" Ishida asked, sitting on the floor of the library and leaning back against the three-seater Kurosaki was sprawled across. "Today marks the passing of two weeks since I found you."

"Two weeks?" Kurosaki repeated.

"It feels much longer than that," the vampire murmured, his head resting back against Kurosaki's side. Without thought, Kurosaki moved his hand, stroking the dark hair. Ishida sighed, clearly enjoying it. "I feel as though I have known you for years."

After a long moment of hesitation, Kurosaki spoke, "You knew Ichigo—"

"You are different," Ishida replied. "I know that, more than anything."

"It's been a good two weeks," Kurosaki said, changing the subject. He rested his hand on top of Ishida's head. "Thank you for everything."

"And thank you," Ishida replied. "For the company."

"You've been alone all this time, before I came, haven't you?"

Ishida looked at him, pulling Kurosaki's hand off his head and holding onto it by the wrist. "…Alone?"

"Since the other Ichigo died. You've been alone since then, haven't you?"

Ishida sighed quietly. "Yes."

"But you've got me now."

"Yes," Ishida's voice was soft. "I have you."

With a small frown, Kurosaki tilted his head to the side. "Remember what you said about consciousness? The night when you found me? That mine could be the same as… the original consciousness that belonged to your friend before he died?"

"The more I know you, the less I believe that myself—"

"But what if it's true?" Kurosaki pressed, his frown deepening, "I don't have his memories, but what if I have his feelings?"

"Kurosaki….?"

"…Never mind. It's just something stupid." Kurosaki sat up, sliding his hand out of Ishida's grip. "I haven't slept much the past few days so I think I'll just…"

He stood, leaving his book behind and began to walk to the door. He stopped when he felt Ishida holding onto his arm.

"God, Kurosaki, you are just as thick as he was," Ishida said, his voice shaky but there was laughter in it all the same. "Come here."

Kurosaki made a faint sound of surprise as Ishida turned him around and held the sides of his face, pulling him down into a kiss. His hands when to Ishida's shoulders and he pulled the vampire closer to deepen the kiss. Ishida kissed him with unchecked passion and while Kurosaki had no doubt that a portion of it was truly intended for his original self, he did not mind.

They broke the kiss, panting softly, and Ishida tightened his grip on Kurosaki, looking into his eyes. "I do not want to be alone again."

Kurosaki shook his head. "Neither do I. You're all I have." He kissed Ishida firmly. "I'll stay as long as you'll have me."

This brought a small smile to Ishida's lips. "Thank you."

"This doesn't change anything, does it?" Kurosaki asked quietly.

"I would not imagine so," Ishida replied, pressing another kiss to Kurosaki's lips. "You are already the closest friend I have had in years, the only thing that would change is how affectionate we would be with each other."

"Oh?" Kurosaki grinned as Ishida ran his long fingers through the orange hair.

"Mm," Ishida murmured against Ichigo's ear. "And perhaps whose bed you sleep in."

"I like the sound of that."

"I thought you might."

"Why don't you show me your room right now?"

"My, so impatient," Ishida smirked. "…Though I have already fed for tonight, so I have no reason to refuse."

Ishida led the way up the stairs and down the corridor, past Kurosaki's door and to the double-doors of the master bedroom. He pushed them open and Kurosaki frowned a little. Unlike the rest of the manor, the room was dimly lit with the bare minimum of candles. Kurosaki could barely make out the features of the room.

Ishida chuckled and with a sweep of his hand, the room brightened as more candles lit themselves. "Sorry."

The entire room was at least twice as large as the bedroom Kurosaki slept in. There were even more book cases against the walls and one window with its blinds drawn and a heavy curtain pulled across to block out the light. In the centre of the room was the largest bed he had ever seen, big enough to comfortably fit three people, covered with sheets of black, trimmed with deep reds.

"Must get lonely in that big bed by yourself, Ishida," Kurosaki mused, his hand idly tracing its way down the vampire's back.

"And I suppose you can fix that?" Ishida asked, leaning back into Kurosaki's touch.

"I'm pretty sure I can, Ishida," Kurosaki grinned, pushing him onto the bed and crawling on top of him.

Ishida's eyes positively glowed as he drank in the sight of Kurosaki above him. "Then show me."

*

  
Kurosaki woke as the sun set, still curled up against Ishida, his arm wrapped around the vampire to hold him close. He grinned to himself, enjoying the memories of the previous night as they returned to him. Ishida was a demanding lover and they had spent the entire night, until dawn, exploring each other.

Ishida stirred and blinked his eyes open, smiling at Kurosaki. "I trust you slept well?"

"Better than ever. You?"

"I share those sentiments," Ishida propped himself up by the elbows and pressed a lingering kiss to Kurosaki's lips. "I want to do everything again, but I must feed, first."

"To the woods," Kurosaki declared, pulling Ishida into his arms. "And who knows? Maybe we'll get impatient and not make it back to your bed before we pounce on each other again."

Ishida laughed softly. "We shall see. Come on."

Leading the way out of the manor, Ishida thanked whatever force had conspired to lead him across the path of Kurosaki, perhaps the gentlest monster he ever knew of. Whether it was luck, fate or the gods playing a cruel joke on him, it had ended in his favour and he was thankful for that.

x


End file.
